


Boy In Love

by squidbaby



Category: EXO (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: (I'm so sorry you were left out Sungwoon), Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, The Dream Team a.k.a Taemin Jimin Kai, rating will increase, slightly tsundere jongin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 00:31:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13042767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidbaby/pseuds/squidbaby
Summary: “Tell me Jimin, are you really that shy or is it just an act?” He paused, tapping his finger against his cheek playfully as if pondering, lips curled up at the corner. “Or are you afraid of me?” He smiled down at Jimin, shark-like.(Enrolling at a new school, Jimin meets the mystery that is Jongin Kim.)





	Boy In Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [milkbar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkbar/gifts).



> Written in commemoration of Jimin pinching Jongin's ass? thigh? I know it's been awhile. I'll just drop the link [here](https://twitter.com/kel_momo/status/814659521029107712) real quick if you haven't witnessed the mating ritual between two dorks. I'm joking.
> 
> Tags will be updated as the story progresses.

Jimin’s mind wandered off from the conversation his friends were having and found himself staring aimlessly at the constant re-opening and closing of the double doors as students bustled in and out of the cafeteria. He propped his elbow on the table and leaned down to rest his cheek against his palm. Droning out the constant buzz of students carrying out their daily routines, Jimin was about to close his eyes when two students happened to catch his attention. He found himself lifting his head and sitting up a bit straighter to track their movements. They were laughing quite loudly about something as they pushed past the cafeteria doors, wrapped up in their own bubble, uncaring of the stares they received.

They were quite a contrasting pair: the shorter one had bright blond hair, pale skin and a petite frame whilst his companion was a tall brunette with radiant caramel skin, broad shoulders and a slim waist.

The shorter of the two was gesturing wildly with his hands in a mimic of something and let out a wide smile when his friend threw his head back in a fit of laughter, shoulders shaking slightly at the force of it. He then leaned over to whisper in the other boy’s ear with his hand covering his mouth.  
He must have said something scandalous because the brunette’s eyes widened as he listened on, his eye brows rising up comically. He aimed to playfully slap the blond on the chest, who in turn bent his knees and leaned down, crossing his arms over his chest to fend off the attack. And the two of them dissolved in to a fit of giggles. The corner of Jimin’s lips quirked up in a small smile seeing the two interact.

He watched as they walked toward the short queue of students lined up for food, and took note of how others moved out of their way to give the them space, when usually those students were unapologetic about bumping into others and would not hesitate to slightly push to get around in their haste. This had him curious as to why the two commanded such respect.

He was — regretfully — forced to look away as long fingers appeared in his line of sight, snapping insistently.

“Hey, _hey._ Jimin, are you even paying attention?” Taehyung said, leaning over the table to face his best friend, who was sitting next to him.

“Uh…what?” Jimin replied, slightly lost.

“Ah, Jimin, seriously! Did you even listen to one thing?!”

Jimin gave the offended boy a sheepish smile. “Sorry Tae, I got distracted. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, Jimin?” Hobi spoke up. “Do you want me to get you something else to eat? You’ve been staring at the serving area for a while.”

Jimin got flustered at almost being caught staring shamelessly at the two alluring boys.

“Nah, nah, Hobi, I’m perfectly fine, thank you,” he said, trying to wave off his friend’s concern. “Just got distracted is all.” But Hobi did not look convinced, and he gave Jimin’s untouched burger a pointed look. “Are you sure? Because I can get you something else, it’s not going to be a problem.”

Jimin stared at his own full plate in shock; he had been so engrossed that he — to his own surprise — had forgotten to eat his lunch.

“Yeah,” Taehyung agreed, “Usually you’re scarfing down your food.”

“Guys, I’m telling you, I’m fine,” Jimin insisted, before picking up his burger and taking a huge bite out of it in hopes of appeasing them. “See,” he continued, and gave them a big toothy smile.

“Oh my God!” Taehyung exclaimed dramatically, making a big show of covering his eyes with his hands. “My eyes! Jimin that’s gross. Don’t show me the food in your mouth!”

Hobi let out a whoop of laughter at their friend’s theatrics while Jimin stuck his tongue out at Taehyung.

“Whatever, Tae,” Jimin said after swallowing. “What were you guys talking about before?”

Thankfully, his friends took the bait and dropped the issue. “Oh yeah, about that —” Taehyung paused to take a sip out of his drink before continuing, “I was just telling Hobi about how you danced in your previous school, and since Hobi is a member of the dance society here…he could like… hook you up.”

Hobi nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah, and Tae here has been bragging about your ‘gifted’ skills, so if you’re as good as he says you are, then you'd be an asset to our team.”

Jimin put his face in to his hands in embarrassment. “Tae, stop sugar-coating my dancing to others, we’ve talked about this!”

“Aww, is my Jiminie getting shy?” Taehyung cooed, before he threw himself at his best friend and enclosed his fingers around Jimin’s slim wrists in an attempt to pry the boy’s hands from his face. “But Jimin, we’ve also had the talk where I told you to flaunt it if you’ve got it, and you got it, okay?” Tae stated loudly in Jimin’s ear, whose shoulder rid up reflexively and he tilted his head down towards his shoulder, letting out light, airy giggles at the ticklish feeling of Taehyung’s breath brushing his skin.

“Ughh…Tae get off,” Jimin groaned out, flailing his arms around to rid them of Taehyung’s hold. However, Taehyung was unfazed by the attempts to shrug him off and let go of Jimin's wrists only so he could wrap an arm around the other boy’s shoulders, rubbing a hand up and down Jimin’s arm with his other. He shook the boy lightly and asked firmly, "Okay?"

“Okay," Jimin replied softly, fully knowing that his best friend would not let the topic go until he heard a reply back. Taehyung often went overboard with his support, but Jimin never felt annoyed because he was more than grateful for his best friend’s efforts on his behalf. Taehyung had been his anchor when he was at his lowest and struggled with his self-confidence, and unselfishly took up the responsibility to help him overcome his insecurities by always being by his side with a constant shower of words of assurance and encouragement. He was his biggest cheerleader and Jimin loved him for it.

Hearing the reply he wanted, Taehyung beamed and lifted his arm off Jimin’s shoulder so he could squeeze him behind the neck gently. "That's my boy.”

Jimin looked up to see Hobi smiling at them warmly. “I knew you were busy, but Tae you really missed out on a wild party this Saturday, man,” Hobi started after a bout of silence. “You know Tobi, right? Man, he tripped off the freakin' —” He suddenly paused when he felt a hand drop on his shoulder, and shadowy silhouettes of two figures spread across the table.

“You’re talking about Tobi Sanders?” a sweet voice inquired, causing Jimin to look up from where he was tracing random patterns on the table with his finger. He was shocked to see the two beautiful boys standing before their table, _holy shit_.

“Yeah,” Hobi replied back casually, completely unaware of the range of emotions going inside Jimin’s head. “Oh man, that was ridiculous,” the blond replied, laughing, showing off his perfect teeth. Jimin could not believe that this was happening.

Sensing a gaze on him, Jimin teared his eyes away from Hobi and the blond talking animatedly, only to lock eyes with the blond’s companion. His breath hitched. The piercing gaze made him feel flustered; the brunette’s closed off expression did not help either. Jimin wondered what was going through his mind. He was about to lower his gaze when the brunette broke eye contact and turned away, appearing indifferent. Confused about what had just happened, Jimin looked on as the brunette lightly nudged the blond on the arm and jerked his head back as an indication to go. But his friend only spared him a glance before continuing to prattle on, and when it became clear that he would be taking longer, the brunette politely nodded at Taehyung and Jimin’s direction before walking off. The gesture of acknowledgement was so subtle that Jimin might have missed it if he had not been gawking at him like an idiot.

The blond trailed off mid-sentence when he realised that his friend had left. He twisted his neck to turn and stare at the retreating back of the brunette for a few seconds before turning back to Hobi with a sheepish smile as if it had just occurred to him. “Ah, I’m sorry Hobi, but the bell’s about to ring and I still have to finish lunch,” he said while lifting up his tray full of food to prove his point. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation,” he continued, putting on an apologetic expression while turning to face them all, before looking back at Hobi. “I just wanted to inform you that our practise will be held a little later today, like around 4: 30. Alright?”

“Got it,” Hobi said, playfully imitating the tone of a soldier addressing his commander. “By the way Taemin, we might have a new addition today.”

Taemin’s face, Jimin noticed, lit up in interest on hearing Hobi’s news. His thin eyebrows rose up and he cupped a hand around his mouth, whispering not-so-quietly in a conspiratorial tone. “Really, who is it? Do I know them?”

Hobi just laughed and pointed towards Jimin with his spoon, who found himself once again under the receiving end of a sharp, perceptive gaze. “Jimin here is interested, and from what I’ve heard, he’s good.”

“Really?” Taemin smiled at him, and Jimin found himself going blank. “You’re new right? Ah! welcome! I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier; I’m Taemin Lee.”

Jimin stumbled awkwardly to get up from his seat when Taemin extended his hand forward, the sound of his chair scraping back sounding too loud to his own ears. “Nice to…uh…meet you. I’m Jimin Park, as Hobi said.” _Fuck, why was he so lame._

Taemin just looked highly amused. “It was nice meeting you Jimin Park. Feel free to come watch our practise today to get a feel of how we work. We’ll talk after, okay?” And Jimin nodded his head in jerky movements.

Taemin extended his free arm towards Hobi who leaned forward to meet him halfway and clasped the blond by the elbow. “See you at practise,” he said to Hobi. “Oh and before I forget, Taehyung, Minho’s been looking for you.”

Taehyung displayed his wide boxy-smile. “Ah, my phone is flat. I’ll find him later.”

  
Taemin waved at them and headed in the direction his friend had left to. Jimin took note — as he had done with the brunette before — how almost all the eyes in the room followed the blonde as he walked towards a table located at the back of the cafeteria. He could understand though, he himself was entranced; the way the blond carried himself with an air of exuberance commanded attention. His cat-like gait and light, graceful steps gave away the fact that he was a dancer.

 

  
The table where Taemin quickly settled down was occupied by two other guys and the brunette. _What the hell, how are they all so attractive?_

He turned his head back — from his staring fest — to his own table; with his luck, Taemin and his friends would catch him in the act if he were to continue any further. Hobi gave Jimin a knowing look when they locked eyes but he did not call Jimin out on it for which he was eternally grateful. He did not want Taehyung to catch on because he would never hear the end of it. He once made the mistake of letting it slip to his best friend that he harboured a particular liking towards Taeyang from BigBang. Never Again. Not if he wanted another pair of boxers but with — God forbid — Taemin’s face on them courtesy of Taehyung Kim. Oh God, if that ever happened he would never be able to look at Taemin in the eyes again.

He was even more grateful towards Hobi when the boy spoke up about Taemin without Jimin having to ask.“Taemin is our dance society’s president. He’ll be the one over-seeing your try-out today, or may be Jongin, but it’ll most probably be Taemin.”

Seeing the confused look on Jimin’s face, Hobi elaborated,”Jongin Kim’s the vice-president. You just met him; the one beside Taemin, that was him.” And _Oh_ , Jimin was screwed.

Mistaking Jimin’s freaked out expression as a sign of nervousness for his try-out, Hobi was quick in his attempt to re-assure him. “Don’t worry Jimin, both of them are super nice, and you’ll do great. I’m sure about it so don’t sweat it.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why half the school is terrified of them,” Taehyung spoke up from beside him. “Once a girl tried to talk to Jongin about something, and I swear her legs were slightly trembling.”

“I think it’s because he appears closed off all the time and people just mistake it for hostility. He’s a bit on the quieter side but he’s been nice to me every time we’ve spoken.” Hobi shrugged.

“Hobi, you’re literally the nicest and most helpful person in this whole school; you’re like the sun.Who could ever be mean to you? Only a jerk that is,” Taehyung pointed out, and yeah, Jimin had only known Hobi for a short period of time but his sunny personality had shown through the moment the two had been introduced.

“You say that, but I haven’t told you about Yoongi Min from IT. I went to ask him about last Thursday’s assignment and he almost chewed my head off for talking to him. I swear I feared for my life in that moment. Never doing that again.” Hobi made a gesture like he was warding off evil and Jimin giggled.

“Yoongi? Oh man, he’s a total softie inside, don’t fall for his mean act. But word of advise: don’t approach him before he’s had his morning coffee or he’ll really give you something to fear.”

“I think i’ll avoid approaching him for now, one near-death experience was enough for my heart.”

“Oh don't be so dramatic Hobi,” Taehyung said, and Jimin recognised that tone: it was the tone Taehyung subconsciously adopted whenever he was about to make a bet. “Trust me, Yoongi probably already regrets snapping at you. Forty bucks he’ll approach you sometime this week to apologise.” And there it was.

“You’ve got yourself a bet Taehyung.”

Taehyung smiled wickedly like he knew something Hobi didn’t.

Hobi looked at his wristwatch and muttered something to himself before looking up at them. “I’ve got to walk all over to the other side of school for next class, and five minutes are left before break ends. I should head off now or otherwise i’ll be late.”

“You’ve got Ms. Parker, right?” Taehyung asked, grimacing when Hobi nodded. “Damn, I’d run if I were you. Last time I was seven minutes late, she threw a fit and locked me out of class. And then she gave me detention for missing class, like: woman, you're the one who made me miss it.”

Hobi laughed nervously as he got up. ”Shit I better go,” he said before scurrying off.

“Run Forest, run!” shouted Taehyung at their friend’s back, and Jimin let out a bark of laughter, falling sideways against Taehyung’s shoulder. Jimin lifted himself upright and smacked Taehyung on his arm. “You were just whining to me about being short on money before we got here, are you really in the position to be making bets?”

Taehyung pinched Jimin on the cheek cheekily. “Don’t you worry about me ‘Minnie,” he said, crossing his legs and placing his hands on his knee, one on top of the other, appearing quite pleased with himself. “I’ll be forty dollars richer by the end of this week.”

Jimin narrowed his eyes. “And how are you so sure?”

“Well…a certain Yoongi Min happened to approach me this morning asking about Hobi’s schedule and his coffee preference. He’ll probably approach Hobi in a few days to apologise and offer coffee as a piece offering. I told you guys: inside, Yoongi is as soft as that Kumamon he really likes, although he might bark at you like a Rottweiler.”

Jimin pushed Taehyung lightly. “I can’t believe you just played Hobi.”

“You only make a bet when the odds are in your favour, young grasshopper, and I happened to know that they were very much in mine. Stop giving me that look, Jiminie Cricket, Hobi made that bet fully knowing the consequence of his actions if he lost, and plus, I get forty dollars and Hobi makes up with Yoongi. It’s a win-win situation.”

“Remind me to never make a bet with you,” Jimin said, and Taehyung’s laughter got drowned out by the ringing of the school bell resonating around the cafeteria, indicating the end of their break.

 

*

 

He was late _shit, shit._

Jimin rushed across the school corridor, skidding around a turn while adjusting his bag’s strap on his shoulder. His sneakers squeaked loudly in the empty corridor. He had almost slipped twice in his haste, the janitor shouting after him to _‘watch out for the wet floor, son! Slow down!’_ But Jimin did not have the option of slowing down, the dance practise was supposed to start at four thirty. It was five past five already and he was thirty-five minutes late!

He would not have been late if his biology teacher had not made him stop after class to discuss the syllabus and the work he had to catch up on. The conversation should have lasted fifteen minutes to the max, but then she had started droning on about life-choices or something akin to that, but Jimin had started zoning out as soon as she went off-topic. He had quickly texted Hobi to inform Taemin that he would be late as soon as the teacher called out his name, but he had not thought he’d be _this_ late.

Jimin pushed open the wide double doors and rushed out of the main school building, skipping a few steps as he made his way down the stairs, only to stop as he realised he did not know which secondary building was the dance building. _Ah, dammit!_

Shrugging his bag off his shoulder to dig out the school map, he cursed himself for not taking Taehyung up on his offer to wait up for Jimin to take him to practise. But Taehyung did not take Biology and got free an hour before Jimin was supposed to, and he would have only felt bad for making his friend wait for him for so long.

His hand stumbled upon a piece of paper, presumably the map, and he was about to pull it out when a deep voice spoke out, “Do you need help?”

Jimin’s body froze, and in that split second he could swear his heart stopped beating, before it kick-started and he let out a high-pitched scream and threw his bag at the figure standing in front of him. However, his attempt at defence failed as the person just grabbed the bag and let out an irritated, “What the hell?”

Now that he had calmed down a little from his adrenaline rushed reaction, Jimin realised that he recognised that smooth voice. He peered up at the familiar figure dressed in snug jeans and a white shirt covered by a jacket. _Oh fuck my life, it’s Jongin._ Jimin just wanted to lay down and let the concrete floor swallow him up.

Jongin loomed over him, holding Jimin’s bag by the strap, looking at him like he was more trouble than worth. “So do you want help or not?”

This snapped Jimin out of his internal distress and he got up from the ground, brushing the dirt off his knees. “Ah, I’m so sorry. You scared the hell out of me, coming at me out of nowhere,” Jimin said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. Seeing the unimpressed look on the other’s face, Jimin started babbling, “Yes, yes, thank you for offering. I — I’m new and…uh…I don’t know where the dance building is, and I’m already running late because of my teacher and — and it’d be really nice if you could just point out the way.”

The corner of Jongin’s lips curled up in a smirk and he jerked his head back. “I’m heading there, follow me,” he said before throwing Jimin’s bag over his own shoulder and walking forward, one hand shoved in his pocket, not even sparing a glance back to see if Jimin was following him or not. Jimin stared at him in surprise (it seemed like that was all he did around Jongin), and then scrambled after him.

Jimin tried to gather the courage to speak up about his bag, not wanting to further nuisance the other by having him carry the extra weight when he was already doing Jimin a favour, but every time he opened his mouth, words would not fall out. After several attempts he began to feel frustrated with himself and decided to keep quiet. He pushed his body to walk faster as Jongin climbed up the steps of the building labelled ‘2B,' trying to keep up with the other's long strides.

Walking across the corridor, Jongin finally slowed down to a stop in front of double glass doors. Jimin could hear the music filtering through; he took a quick glance through the doors and saw the room filled with students moving in synchrony, following choreography. Letting the bag fall off his shoulder, Jongin handed it over to him, and spread his arms by his side. “Well this is it.”

Feeling shy, Jimin nodded his head, peering up at Jongin through the security of the hair curtaining his eyes. “Uh…yeah, thanks a lot. Thanks for…uh…the bag too,” he said, playing with the rings on his fingers.

“No problem,” Jongin shrugged.

Instead of entering the practice room as Jimin had assumed, the other boy just walked past him and headed back the way they had come. “Wa — What? Where are you going? Aren’t you going to attend practice?” Jimin called out weakly, but Jongin just kept walking. Jimin huffed, stomping his foot petulantly. Why was Jongin so damn puzzling?

He had been too overwhelmed in the other boy’s presence to notice, but now that Jimin thought about it, if the practice had been at four thirty and Jongin was the vice president, then what was he doing wandering outside when he came across Jimin? Shouldn't he have been in there with the rest of the dancers or were there special privileges for being one of the leaders? Jimin shook his head and pushed his hand through his hair, he was already late; he did not have time to be pondering about the ambiguity that is Jongin Kim.

Jimin gathered his bearings and turned towards the glass doors. So engrossed in his thoughts, he had not noticed that the music had stopped, and the students were now huddled together, listening attentively to a middle-aged woman standing at the front of the room, gesturing vividly with her hands to get her point across. She had also been the one leading the choreography when Jimin had first taken a look in to the room. Not wanting to interrupt her in the middle of her speech-or-whatever, Jimin decided to wait and moved to lean his back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and making himself comfortable.

He did not have to wait too long because after several minutes the glass doors were pulled open and students began to pour out in bunches, some throwing curious glances Jimin’s way. As soon as the traffic trickled down to a few, Jimin made his way towards the doors, poking his head in to the practise room, trying to locate either Hobi or Taemin. Thankfully, Taemin — himself — spotted Jimin and waved him over with a smile. Jimin walked over towards where Taemin was standing in the corner with a lanky brunette. He slightly faltered in his steps when he realised it was one of the two guys sitting in the cafeteria with Jongin and Taemin, but quickly gathered his composure.

“I’m so sorry for being late,” Jimin said as soon as he came with in earshot, “I was held back by my —“ Taemin raised a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. “It’s alright, Jimin, Hobi already informed me; I understand.”

Taemin turned to face the brunette next to him while gesturing towards Jimin. “Sehun this is Jimin; he’s here to try-out.” Jimin extended his hand out at the same time as Sehun bowed his head in greeting, and they both laughed — slightly awkward. The situation was saved by Hobi who came bounding towards them cheerfully, placing his arms around Jimin and squeezing him while bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Jimin you’re finally here! I thought Ms. Andrew was going to keep you back forever!”

Jimin chuckled sheepishly as Hobi pulled away. “I might’ve made it earlier, but I kind of had no idea where the practise room was,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But thankfully Jongin stumbled upon me and helped me out.”

“Jongin…?” Taemin asked with a lilt in his voice and mirth shimmering in his eyes, letting out a “hmm” when Jimin nodded. Suddenly, a woman’s voice spoke out: “Taemin, Hoseok, I’m heading out, alright? Remember to lock up after yourselves.”

Taemin and Hobi’s backs straightened and they nodded their heads respectively. “Yes maam.”

Jimin followed their line of sight towards the woman from earlier, her pony-tail bouncing behind her as she headed out the door, a large gym bag in hand. “That’s our mentor — Ms. Brooks,” Hobi said, nodding his head in her direction, after he noticed Jimin’s gaze. “She comes two days every week to guide us and monitor our improvement.”

Jimin’s eyebrows rose up and his mouth formed an ‘O’. _Alright_ , he thought.

“I’ve got to head out now,” Sehun said, pulling his phone out and then pocketing it. “My baby’s waiting for me at home; he bites when he’s hungry.” Jimin sincerely hoped he was talking about his pet animal. Sehun pulled Taemin in to a quick half-hug, slapping his back; and then doing the same with Hobi. He nodded towards Jimin, muttering a quiet ‘good luck’ his way before heading towards the door.

“Okay,” Taemin said, clapping his hands together. “Shall we get started?”

When Jimin nodded, Taemin asked: “Okay, Jimin, do you have a song in mind or…?”

“You can always perform with out a song,” Hobi piped up. “What? Some people feel more comfortable that way.”

Jimin smiled. “Just put on whatever,” he said, beginning to move his arms in circles — stretching. “I’ll adjust accordingly.”

“Ah, a man confident in his abilities. I like you already,” Taemin said, smiling. “Take your time, we’ll start when you’re ready.” He pulled his phone out to connect it to the bluetooth speaker and began to scroll through his playlist. Hobi walked over towards the edge of the wall and sat down, cross-legged. He was soon joined by Taemin, who leaned against the wall, his legged stretched out in front of him, still scrolling through his phone. Hobi leaned over, his pointer-finger hovering over Taemin’s phone screen as he muttered something to the other.

Jimin continued on stretching. He locked his fingers together under his leg and lifted it, stretching it against his chest. “Holy shit, you’re flexible,” Hobi said, staring wide-eyed. “Can you do the splits?”

Jimin pressed his teeth on his lower lip and smiled, nodding his head.

“What? Seriously?” Hobi sat up straighter. “Show me.”

Taemin was now staring attentively as well. Jimin stretched his legs sideways, his feet sliding along the wooden floor as his legs spread wider and his centre of gravity lowered. Hobi got up from his position, screeching loudly and clapping his hands excitedly as Jimin settled on the floor, his legs spread apart.

Taemin smiled, his eyes curved in to crescents, highly amused at Hobi’s reaction. “Hobi here is quite inflexible for a dancer. He’ll dance like he has no bones in his body but if you ask him to stretch he’s as stiff as a board.”

“I’d say ‘Hey’ and defend myself, but it’s true,” Hobi said, rubbing at the hairs on the back of his head. “These stretching exercises really do a number on me. Look, I’ll show you.” He sat back down and stretched his legs in front of him, letting out pained groans while leaning forward and stretching in an attempt to touch the tips of his fingers on his toes. Jimin and Taemin burst out laughing. Jimin fell on the floor, his head thrown back. “You should at least be able to do that,” he said in-between giggles.

“I think I almost pulled a hamstring,” Hobi said, rubbing at the back of his knee tenderly but smiling, and the three of them burst in to laughter again.

“I think we should get back on track,” Taemin said after a while, trying to sound serious but cracking a smile a few seconds later.

“Yeah,” Jimin agreed. Hobi and Taemin got up and settled back down against the wall of the room as he moved in to position.

 

  
*

 

  
Taking deep breaths, Jimin turned towards Taemin and Hobi, waiting for their evaluation. He should really reduce the popping in his freestyle because it always does a number on his body.

Taemin shared a look with Hobi before facing Jimin, a huge smile on his face, eyes shining. “I’m really impressed.You’re really good. You’re trained in contemporary right?”

Jimin nodded, cheeks puffing up at the praise. “Yeah, I did contemporary for about two years or so.”

“It’s really visible in the way your body moves; you’re quite fluid, and you integrate it well in to your performance.”  
  
“Ah, Jimin,” Hobi said, cocking his head sideways and scratching the back of his neck,” I don’t know what to say…wow…I just want to give you a hug.” As he said this, he got up and pulled Jimin towards him, guiding Jimin’s head to his chest with his hand, and faux-crying obnoxiously. “You’ve made me so proud.”

Jimin tried to get out of his hold, but Hobi held on tighter causing the blond to laugh helplessly. “Hobi, why are you like this?”

Taemin also laughed in the background. “Don’t mind me, I’ll just quickly squeeze in a hug too,” he said, moving over to lay himself over Jimin and wrap his arms around them.

“Welcome to the dance family, Jimin.”

 

*

 

“I can’t believe you threw your _freaking_ bag at Jongin Kim!” Taehyung cackled loudly. Jimin eyed the few students scattered on the benches around them while trying to get his best friend to lower his voice. Thankfully, the courtyard was mostly vacant around this time, and the few students occupying the benches were too sleep deprived to pay much attention to what was happening around them.

“This is the best thing ever,” he continued, refusing to tone down his volume (sometimes Jimin wished his best friend came with the option of a volume-control-knob so he could manually lower his volume like a speaker. Note: _sometimes_.) “A+ survival skills; Rick Grimes would be so proud. I’d you pegged as the type to be killed within a few episodes, but now I think you’ll survive one season. Congrats.”

Jimin kicked his friend on the shin. “And what about you: King of exercising-every-three-months who gets tired climbing one flight of stairs. A walker could out run you like Usain Bolt.”

“Okay,” Taehyung let out a good-natured laugh, “I’m so offended you don’t think I can win one-on-one with a walker. I’ll let you know, I out ran Mrs. Simon’s pet rat — I’m sorry: pet _Chihuahua_ — when it chased me across the block. Damn that little shit was persistent.”

Jimin threw his head back, giggling. “What type of shit do you get in to, Tae?”

“The type of shit I’ll tell you about later, but first you’ve got to spill more about your Kim-endeavours. How’d he react? Did he kill you?” Taehyung rested his chin on the palm of his hands, adopting the most exaggerated expression of interest while smiling with mock-sweetness.

“Seeing as you’re not talking to my spirit right now, I’d say I survived,” Jimin deadpanned, eyebrows arched.

Taehyung waved his sass off. “Ah, stop being difficult; you know I didn’t mean it literally.”

“I don't want to talk about it, I’m still embarrassed about how I reacted,” Jimin whined, stretching his arm across the table and laying his head on it.

“There, there.” Taehyung gently patted his head. “Wow, your hair is really soft,” he observed after a few seconds of silence. “It surprises me how it hasn’t gone sad and wispy with the amount of times you dye it. Care to share your routine with a fellow bro?” Jimin wanted to slap his forehead, and hit Taehyung while he was at it. Give it to his best friend to swerve off-topic in a matter of seconds. He really had the attention span of a goldfish.

  
*

 

Jimin was a mess. He was a walking disaster waiting to happen; he knew it, and the students dodging out of his way while eyeing him warily knew it too. Would it kill them to offer him a helping hand? Not that he would have agreed, but the sentiment would have been nice.

Rewind back five minutes: The bell shrilled loudly, and Jimin made the terrible, hasty decision to carry his files and books in his arms instead of shoving them in his bag. In the deep, dark recess of his mind he knew he was making a terrible decision because he was a klutz. However, he ignored it in his hurry to make it to Mr. Vietto’s (or ‘Mr. Hyde’ as he liked to refer to his alter ego whenever a student crossed him) class. He was a tyrant of a teacher, and Jimin would rather not get on his bad books again; he had already made the mistake once by handing over his assignment late.

He’d planned on making a quick de-tour to his locker, before rushing to class, but what he had not anticipated was his English teacher adding to his pile as he made his way out. Apparently he had three reading assignments to catch up on. Great, more homework. This is what he gets for transferring to another school mid-term.

This lead to his current predicament of attempting to speed-walk to his locker while balancing the pile in his arms. His bag strap was threatening to slip down his shoulder — why hadn’t he made it easy on himself by wearing both straps? He tried to manoeuvre his body strategically to adjust it back without causing his tower to fall. Well, it wasn’t exactly a tower but, whatever — trivial details.

Jimin was just about to turn the corner when a hand landed on his shoulder from behind, stopping him. “Do you need help?” the person asked. As much as he needed help, Jimin hated burdening people even more so he turned around to politely decline. Which, however, was a mistake because he’d just said, “no thank you, I’m fine,” when the file on top slid off the stack, falling onto the floor; Jimin stared wordlessly as one book tumbled after the other. He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. It was like life was out to get him.

He looked up to smile sheepishly at the other person, only to lock eyes with none other than Jongin fucking Kim. Scratch what he’d said earlier: life was out to embarrass him in front of Jongin Kim. What had he done to deserve this?

Jongin was kind enough to lean down and help him pick up the books. Once the books had been collected, the older boy asked, “where were you headed? I’ll help you,” while holding half the pile.

“To my locker. It’s…uh…number seventy-three,” Jimin said, pointing vaguely behind him.

“Okay then, let’s go,” Jongin said, moving past him to swerve the corner where Jimin had been headed to before. Jongin looked good, he noted as he followed after him. The loose fit jeans didn’t manage to hide the mass of muscle underneath, legs toned from years of dancing. He was wearing the same jacket from yesterday. Now that they weren’t in the dark, Jimin could clearly read the words ‘KIM KAI’ emblazoned across the back.

He sped up until he was walking side-by-side with the other boy. “Thanks for lending a hand,” Jimin said, huffing out a laugh. “I swear I’m not a damsel in distress twenty-four-seven. You always happen to come across me at my worst.” Jongin didn't reply, but Jimin could see his lips curling up at the corner. Well, at least he found Jimin’s plight amusing.

“I’m Jimin by the way,” he spoke up again.

“I know,” Jongin replied curtly. Jimin was expecting him to say something further, but that was it. He guessed he wasn’t in the mood for chitchat.

Jimin trailed to a stop in front of a grey locker labelled seventy-three, and Jongin followed suit. “This is it,” he said. And Jongin nodded, handing the books over.

As Jongin walked away, Jimin shouted “thank you again!” after him, ignoring the curious looks the other students threw his way. After shoving the books in his locker, he leaned on it and rested his head against the cool surface, shutting his eyes close. When would he get his shit together?

Suddenly, the bell rang, and Jimin’s eyes shot open. _Oh shit! Mr. Vietto’s class!_ His hands flew to his hair, and he clutched the strands, pulling on them. He would never make it in time; he was absolutely screwed. He began to make his way towards class, like a prisoner trudging to his execution, mentally preparing himself to face the wrath of — Mr. Vietto a.k.a — _Mr. Hyde_ but trying to delay the inevitable as much as possible.

 

*

 

Jimin laid on the ground, his chest heaving up and down. Fuck he was exhausted; his lungs were burning and beads of sweat were rolling down places they shouldn’t be rolling. After getting his ass targeted by Mr. Vietto for showing up late (that one time!), having to sit through seemingly never-ending classes and then an hour of detention — courtesy of Mr. Vietto — followed by two hours of vigorous dance practise, ‘exhausted’ was putting it lightly. He was gone, mentally and physically.

Taemin sat down next to his sprawled figure, looking slightly less worse for wear. He patted Jimin on the abdomen. “You’ve worked hard.”

Jimin stretched his limbs out, groaning at the ache in his muscles. To be able to be eligible to apply to Taehyung’s school, Jimin had stopped dancing for a while to focus on his studies. Now, that break (from dancing) had come to bite him in the ass, and it would take his body a while to get re-adjusted to the routine of strenuous exercise. It didn’t help that he had to work even harder than the rest of the members because he had choreography to catch up on.

He sighed before breaking out in to a whine, “I’m dead. Just leave my corpse to lie here on the dirty floor.” Guess Taehyung’s flair for the dramatics was rubbing off on him.

Taemin laughed. “You sure talk a lot for a corpse.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m the living kind." Jimin grinned.

Taemin made a show of rolling his eyes at his terrible joke, smiling wide. “You’re terrible.”

Jimin was about to retort back when suddenly Taemin quirked up. “Oh Jimin, before I forget, I have a form for you to fill.”

“What form?” Jimin lifted his upper body up, leaning on his elbows. He watched curiously as Taemin got up and walked over to his bag to pull out a piece of paper from a file.

“Here,” Taemin said, extending his arm to hand the paper over, before plopping back down on the floor. “It’s just a general form the school requires you to fill after you’ve joined a club.”

“Oh,” he replied, eyes tracing over the information required on the page.

“You can give it back to me or Jongin in a few days, no hurry.”

 _Jongin._ The name that had been plaguing his mind lately. Jimin couldn’t help but look for the brunette every time he stepped foot in the dance studio although the other had not shown up to practise for the past three sessions. He wondered what his deal was.

The only silver lining to Jongin’s disappearance was that Jimin could focus on improving himself without any distractions. He knew he’d make a fool of himself somehow, being hyper-aware of the other’s presence and feeling self-conscious of falling recipient to the unnerving gaze.

Taemin looked up at the wall-clock and got up, dusting his pants. “C’mon, get up. It’s late, everyone has already left.”

“Up, up,” he coerced further when Jimin made no move to get up.

“Okay,” Jimin relented, extending his arms forward. Thankfully, Taemin got the hint and helped him up to his feet.

After shutting off the lights and locking the practice room, the two were walking down the corridor when Jimin heard the faint sound of classical music playing. He strained his ears and realised it was coming from behind the wide double doors on his left. Unlike the glass doors of the practice room, these were opaque so Jimin couldn’t see in to the room. _Who could be playing classical music at this hour in school?_ He was about to ask Taemin when the other’s phone rang loudly in the quiet of the evening. Taemin smiled apologetically at Jimin, raising his finger to indicate a minute, before accepting the call and walking forward. Jimin gave one last glance at the dark doors before staggering after Taemin.

 

*

 

The next day, Jimin was locking up the practise room by himself when he heard the music playing again. He had stayed behind to improve his form and work on the steps he was lacking; he refused to be the blackhole in the choreography! It had taken a whole lot of begging and promises of owing Taemin one for the club president to let Jimin borrow the keys so he could stay behind.

The extra time had allowed him to catch up on the routine, but walking alone in the empty corridors which were dark and eerily quiet — except for the faint sound of classical music playing like the backdrop of a horror movie scene — made Jimin slightly regret his decision.

 _Damn, the school building is creepy as fuck after-hours_ , he thought. He hadn’t noticed it as much when he was walking out with Taemin yesterday, but alone, it was making the hairs on his arms raise up. He cursed Taehyung in his mind for forcing him to watch so many horror movies because now his mind kept coming up with all the ways he could get killed by some creepy ass, The Conjuring-level shit.

Despite his heart thumping a little too hard in his chest, Jimin let his curiosity get the better of him, and followed the sound of the music getting louder to the dark, wooden doors from yesterday. He felt like that stereotyped dumb blonde in a horror movie who gets herself killed. Jimin’s hand went up to his hair to pat the blond strands — guess he looked like one too.

He approached the doors, pushing one open wide enough to allow his head to poke through. He cautiously peeked inside. The area was spacious and dark, with high rising ceilings. He could make out chairs stacked in the corner of the room, along with random props placed here and there.  
The only source of light appeared to coming from a tube-light at the furthest side of the room. He peered intently. The shadow of a figure could be seen on the light walls, and Jimin’s eyes followed in awe as the silhouette moved to the symphony with graceful yet powerful control.

Entranced by the captivating movement, Jimin found himself wanting to get a closer look. He gently pushed the door to make enough space to be able to squeeze through, praying it wouldn’t creak too loudly. He didn’t want his presence to be known and cause the dancer to stop. Carefully making his way forward, Jimin inhaled sharply as he realised that the moving silhouette belonged to Jongin. Jaw-dropped, he watched on as the figure — _Jongin_ — locked his body in place, legs spread apart and knees bent, thigh muscles bulging under the tight stretch of his leggings. Instead of using his whole body, Jongin let the expression on his face and the subtle gesture of his hands relay his emotions this time, moving his forearm in front of his eyes as if expressing his shame.

Jimin moved one step closer, pausing when his foot hit something. Shit, he internally winced. He watched helplessly as the ball rolled forward, his heart thudding harder with every inch the ball covered. It hit Jongin on the leg and came to a stop. Jimin held his breath as the other paused mid-step to look down at the object before lifting his head to gaze in the direction it had come from. “Who’s there?” Jongin asked harshly, and Jimin's eyes widened. He gulped nervously before speaking out. “It’s me. I’m so sorry I didn't mean to sneak up on you.”

Jongin stepped closer and Jimin subconsciously took a step back. “Get out.”

“W-what?”

“Get. Out,” Jongin spoke again, his tone firm.

Jimin took a few more steps back. “Okay,” he squeaked before turning around and running out of there. He took one last glance as he rounded out the door. The image of Jongin standing there, head bowed slightly and fists clenched, illuminated by the artificial light stayed engrained in his mind the whole way home.

 

*

 

Entering the practise room the next day, Jimin was surprised to find Jongin occupying one of the chairs in the corner: legs spread out casually, eyes locked on his phone, but despite the disinterested appearance, Jimin could tell the other boy was hyper-aware of everything going around in the room. This was the first time he’d seen the vice-president step foot in to the practise room ever since joining the club, and the other’s presence was rather jarring.

Jimin felt his cheeks heat up when his brain (un)helpfully supplied him with yesterdays incident. He’d spent majority of the night pondering over what had happened. Jongin’s hostile attitude had surprised him because the brunette had been nothing but helpful towards him. Maybe the tall, brunette was really the ice-prince the rumours made him out to be. He sighed to himself: way to ruin any chance of befriending him. Shaking his head to get rid of his embarrassment, Jimin quickly made his way over to the centre of the room where everyone else had gathered, trying to blend in to the crowd. It would be better to stay out of Jongin’s radar; out of all the days the other had to show up to practise, it had to be the one after Jimin had managed to piss him off.

Taemin walked in to the room a few minutes later with a smile on his face and called everyone to attention, starting the lesson. As Taemin stood front and centre, leading the routine, Jongin prowled around the group like a lion looking for the herd’s Achilles heel, and Jimin realised that Jongin wasn’t here to practise, but to supervise.

He began to feel self-conscious feeling the other’s eyes on him, and his palms began to sweat. In his nervousness he was late to turn. Catching Taemin’s eyes in the mirror’s reflection, Jimin realised that he’d been caught, but the other would let it go, for now. He clenched his eyes and took a deep breath, get yourself together.

He was doing fine until Jongin took a turn around his corner, leaving behind a trail of sweet, musky aroma of whatever scent he uses, and Jimin’s mind blanked for a few seconds causing him to falter in his movements. “Jimin, focus!” Taemin reprimanded, “What’s wrong with you today?”

Jimin’s ears turned red at the heads turning his way. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll do better.” _Fuck, this was going to be the longest forty-five minutes of his life._

 

 

 

 

It truly was the longest forty-five minutes of his life. As soon as Taemin ended the lesson, Jimin was about to fall to his knees and thank the Lord. He’d really made a fool of himself in front of Jongin, _several times_ , lumbering over the choreography like an idiot. He wanted to hide his face behind his hands, but curse his tiny, sorry-excuse-of hands which wouldn’t even cover half his face. Seriously, what was up with his hands? _Anyways_ , Jimin was about to grab his bag and high-tail it out of there when he remembered the registration form he had to return. Shit.

Pulling the paper out of his bag, he looked up and scanned the room only to realise that Taemin was no where to be seen. Jimin groaned internally, what was he going to do now? Like the answer to his question and a magnet which attracted his gaze (seriously, Jimin’s eyes somehow always managed to seek him out), Jongin stood several feet away with his back facing Jimin, stuffing things into his bag. Jimin watched on, engrossed, as Jongin zipped his bag close and grabbed a bottle of water. He felt like a cliché thirsting over the way Jongin’s jawline protruded sharply as he took a gulp, lips wrapped around the opening, glistening due to the swipe of his tongue to wet them. _Oh God._

As if sensing someone looking at him, Jongin turned his head slightly and turned his eyes in Jimin’s direction. The former’s eyes widened as they made eye contact, and he squeaked, quickly dropping his gaze. Ears red, Jimin peered up towards Jongin after a few seconds, only to quickly look down once realising that Jongin was still looking at him. Trapped myself in that one, he thought. He clutched the filled form in his hand tighter and pressed his lips together. Guess he had no other option but to hand it over to Jongin. At least it’d give him an excuse as to why he was staring at him (other than the obvious truth about him oggling his fine ass drinking water).

Jimin cautiously walked over towards Jongin and lifted the paper towards the brunette without meeting his eyes. Jongin chuckled lowly. “Aren’t you going to look at me?”

When Jimin gave no response, Jongin bent down slightly and cocked his head, trying to meet his eyes. “You had no problem staring at me a few seconds ago,” his tone was teasing but not mean, and Jimin spluttered, choking on his saliva. “I wasn—“

“Tell me Jimin, are you really that shy or is it just an act?” He paused, tapping his finger against his cheek playfully as if pondering, lips curled up at the corner. “Or are you afraid of me?” He smiled down at Jimin, shark-like.

“I—I just wanted to give you the registration form,” Jimin said stammered, quickly shoving the paper towards Jongin before slinging his bag on his shoulder and getting out of there like a bat out of hell.

 

*

 

Surprised, Taemin side-stepped as a flustered Jimin passed by him in a blur, clutching the sling of his bag like a life-line. He stretched his arm out towards the retreating figure, fingers raised, about to call out to him but then decided against it, lowering it. He wondered what was up with Jimin today, he was acting really strangely. Shrugging, he walked towards the practice room. Upon entering, he saw Jongin standing in the middle of the room with his fist pressed against his lower lip, grinning like the Cheshire cat, and he realised the cause of Jimin’s distress.

He walked over towards his best friend and hit him behind the head. “Stop messing with him; he’s a good kid.”

Jongin rubbed the back of his head and lightly kicked his leg in Taemin’s direction in retaliation. “Mess with who?”

“You know who,” Taemin said, folding his arms, eyebrow raised pointedly.

Paying no heed to what his best friend had just said, Jongin wrapped an arm around Taemin’s shoulder and steered him towards the door. “C’mon let’s grab something to eat; I’m starving.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Jimin and Jongin are really sneaky about their bromance, like Jongin, I totally saw you wrapping your arm around Jimin's shoulder when the lights turned off during the last Seoul Music Awards. (I'm sorry I've failed to come through for you guys because I lost the fancam, it's been a year.) Now I can only mourn about all the moments we've missed behind the scenes.
> 
> Petition to call The - you wish you were part of our gang - Squad: The Dream Team. Also, Taemin, Jongin, Jimin and Sungwoon really out there looking like long lost brothers.  
> (shout out to Kwonho and Timoteo because they're two of the originals. People always forget about them:(. )
> 
>   
> What a beautiful squad. 
> 
> I know Jongin's a dork, but I wrote him as his ulter-ego, Kai, here. Feedback and kudos are really appreciated so I know whether to continue or not. :)
> 
> If you want to shout together about The Dream Team or about anything really, come find me on twitter [@jungoojimin](https://twitter.com/jungoojimin)


End file.
